Premeditation
by WisdomComing
Summary: Not having met long ago in this particular universe, Tsukasa and Subaru are about to meet for the first time. AU


Disclaimer: .hack/SIGN is property of Bandai. No infringement intended.  
Author's Note: Alternate Universe. Timeline: almost a decade after the events of the .hack/SIGN TV series. Not having met long ago in this particular universe, Tsukasa and Subaru are about to meet for the first time. While in the Real World, Subaru will be referred to as Mariko.

PREMEDITATION  
by: WisdomComing

I lean against the window frame, my right hand reaching for the glass and fingers carefully outlining the wet foliage beyond. With careful precision, they continue down drooping branches, a green lawn, and stop at the black path below. On said path, a large puddle mirrors the dark clouds, appearing to follow their trajectory—a striking illusion of nature. A flash of light suddenly erupts in the sky and I instinctively close my eyelids. The ensuing thunder makes the glass shake, and I feel the shock absorbed through my fingertips and carried up my arm.

"Tsukasa," I whisper suddenly, testing out the words.

I open my eyes to increased rain flow. The trees and campus buildings appear to melt down the glass, the rain drops so strong now they sound like hail. I glance left at my desk. A headset resides within a partway opened box and I walk toward it. Opening the box fully, I remove it and hold it carefully in my left hand, shifting it casually to my other hand and back, in contemplation.

"Tsukasa," I say once again, my left brow rising.

Pulling back the desk chair, I sink comfortably into the leather upholstery. Gazing down at my headset, I smile nostalgically. I shall keep the alias a while longer, I decide. When I lean toward my laptop, my smile now carries mischief.

——————

I lean against the railing looking straight ahead at the south wall. The interior lights obscure the outside, and I see my image on the glass—long white shoulder length hair falling down the front of a black leather jacket. I move my right hand slightly. Twenty feet ahead, my reflection swings the water bottle in my grasp, its contents swishing back and forth.

All of a sudden, there is a movement to my right. From the corner of my eye, I catch a white jacket and recognize the scent of vanilla.

"You'd think a psychology grad student would have a better way with people." The figure turns to face me and laughs. "Or at least have a healthy appreciation of the human species," she finishes.

I face the speaker, supporting my weight on the railing with my left forearm. "What are you doing here, silly?" I playfully touch the dimple on her left cheek with my right index finger, my water bottle's top half pressing against her skin.

She takes a step back. "Hey, that's cold!" she cries out, and then looks at me suspiciously. "You did that on purpose. Admit it."

I laugh softly.

"You're not going to make any friends like that," she teases.

"The average person is a nuisance," I say dryly. "It's only the exception that makes socializing seem…effortless."

"You make socializing seem painful," she shakes her head. "It's no wonder you always look pained."

"Not always." I smile. "Not with you." I reach out again in search of her cheek.

Instead of taking a step back, she lunges toward me, her arms encompassing my shoulders. "You're hopeless sometimes," she whispers in my ear, and leans back to face me. I place my right hand on her lower back for support as I look down at her. "That's why I'm here you know," she continues. "To save you."

——————

"That comes to six hundred and thirty five dollars," the woman at the register says with a sympathetic smile.

I hand her my debit card with a tinge of amusement. "And I still have to be back tomorrow for the rest."

Taking my card, she swipes it. "Psychology textbooks are expensive," she tells me. I punch in my PIN, then help bag the remainder of the textbooks while I wait for the transaction to go through. Once finished, I'm handed back my debit card. "Do you want your receipt in the bag?" she asks.

"Yes please," I respond.

The cashier lifts the bags and hands them to me with visible effort. "That's heavy. Are you sure you're going to be able to carry all that on your own?"

I accept the bags—two in each hand—and slide them off the counter. Immediately, my muscles flex under the strain. "This is fine," I say confidently. My eyes focus on her nametag. "Thanks Rei."

Rei reacts with a genuine smile, followed by a slight blush.

——————

Alone at a small table, I finish typing the last line of my document and automatically press the Control Key and the letter S. The time on the taskbar reads 9:48 PM. I sigh. Taking hold of the styrofoam cup next to my laptop, I drink what remains of my tea. The tutorial syllabus has taken almost an hour to type and edit. Deciding to let my fingers to rest for the time being, I slant back in my chair and carefully begin proofreading.

Unexpectedly, two hands cover my eyes. The scent of vanilla informs me of the perpetrator. "Mimiru," I say, before she has a chance to speak.

"That's uncanny," she whispers in my ear with a laugh. Placing one hand on each of my shoulders, she leans forward. "Social Psychology - Tutorial Syllabus," she reads over my head. Rounding my right, she then pulls up a chair. I notice she wears the same white jacket as yesterday. Unbuttoning its top two buttons, she takes a seat. "I still think it's funny your chosen field is Psychology," she winks.

"No more so than yours," I say, placing my empty cup right of my laptop.

"Hey, Management is fun stuff." She shrugs and crosses her legs at the knee. "After listening to my father talk about his job all those years, I'm well versed in what not to do." She lifts my cup from the table. Discovering it empty, she frowns. "I'm thirsty."

"You've got about ten minutes before the shop closes," I inform her.

Mimiru considers this for a moment, transferring the empty cup to her left hand. "Nah, I'm not thirsty for _that_ kind of drink," she leans forward and places her free hand on my right knee. "You my friend, is why I'm here. I've got a plan already on the works. I've got it all figured out."

"Really," I say with surprise in my voice. "Such an unlikely undertaking for someone of your impulsive nature."

Mimiru shakes her head. "You know your skepticism in no way deters me, don't you?"

I nod. "The stubborn are rarely deterred."

"It's strong willed," she corrects me, then smiles in private thought. "It's funny. My Management professor had us all fill out a questionnaire today, under the rouse of getting to know us better." Mimiru moves her hand from my knee to the table, and sits comfortably back in her chair. "'State your best qualities'—was one of the questions."

"Excessively stubborn and passionate," I interject. "With a burning need to help others."

"What'd you say?" Lifting up her left hand shoulder level, she chucks my empty styrofoam container at me.

Anticipating her objective as her arm lifts, my left hand catches the projectile with ease well before it strikes my head. Mimiru chuckles amusedly as I locate a garbage can two meters away, and toss it in. From behind me, an employee shouts there are only five minutes remaining until closing. I lean forward and shut my laptop accordingly, but casually sit back again.

"How things change," Mimiru reminisces. "Getting you to talk used to be worse than pulling teeth."

"I don't think that has changed," I smirk.

"Sometimes not," she laughs. "But now at least, I am comfortable with the long silences. I think if it hadn't been for you, I never would have discovered patience."

I nudge her boot with the tip of my shoe. "Yet each time you find it, you toss it for better things."

Mimiru is unphased. "True enough." Rising to her feet, she stretches her arms. "By the way," she declares, pushing her chair in. "Whatever you were doing tonight, you're not doing anymore." Laughing, she begins pulling away before I can object. "See you at The Cove in thirty!" she shouts to me as she leaves.

I watch her take the side exit, her long, slender legs quickly whisking her away. In seconds, she has rounded the corner and disappeared in the direction of the on-campus housing facilities. Restricted to graduates only, they are only a few years old and thankfully well removed from the excessive noise of the undergraduate dorms.

"Just as silly as ever," I mutter, storing my laptop inside its leather casing.

I stand up. The same employee as before notifies customers only one minute remains until closing. Inspecting the coffee shop, I make out two other customers near the back. They make no effort to leave, and when the current song ends and the next begins, they cast aside their chairs for a dance. When their bodies tentatively find each other under the light of an overhanging lamp, their motions are slow in accordance to the music.

Taking hold of my bag, I lengthen the strap and hoist it unto my right shoulder. I am ready to leave when I pause. The current song sounds familiar. With the nearest wall speaker only four meters away, I pay close attention to the lyrics.

_Took the way I know  
Move along now  
So sad I lost my memory  
The shape of things to come  
Circus heart stops inside me  
There's just no time._

I chuckle reminiscently—fully recalling the song—and take the same side exit as Mimiru. Lampposts line the path every seven meters, shaped like old oversized lanterns at the top, yet ironically encapsulating the modernism of fluorescent light bulbs within. This is the first time in days that the rain has stopped. Therefore, its remains are still visible in the clean black path and glistening grass.

A light drizzle falls on me as I pass under an overhanging branch. Ignoring it, I raise my left hand to the back of my neck and methodically massage rigid muscles. The past couple of days have been stressful, and I suspect my neck and shoulder muscles will face more tension over the coming weeks.

When I come across an intersection, I stop. Standing in the middle, I find myself surrounded by lights—one at each corner just before lawn meets concrete. Four in total, their glow casts a bluish tint, causing the immediate grass to appear dark blue. A lock of hair slides in front of my left eye, I notice the glow has turned it light blue. The overall effect carries an air of artificiality, reminding me of The World. Tilting back my head a little, I am confronted with darkness. Bright city lights account for the few stars seen—an inferior sight next to the numerous constellations and vast night skies of The World. I am reminded of hours spent stargazing, unable to log out. It appears I miss the clear night skies of that constructed world more than I realized.

"I thought I was the only one who did that around here."

The voice comes from behind and just off to the right, barely above a whisper. For the moment I say nothing, merely turning partway. Observing the person behind the voice now, I am surprised by how well voice compliments owner. Her pale skin is soft like her words. Gazing at the sky, her expression is calm and pensive. The leather jacket she wears matches the blue of her shoulder length hair, but I cannot tell if it is only the effect of the lights that makes it so.

"You're beautiful," I say sincerely.

Immediately, her cheeks grow darker. It is nearly ten seconds later when she finally turns to face me, her eyes focusing steadily on mine. From this vantage point, her light coloured eyes transmit authority and speculation. Yet, their most striking revelation is of deep kindness and subtle strength.

Unexpectedly, I hear the door to the nearest building burst open followed by a cacophony of shouts. The noise quickly escalates along with the sound of running. At this point, she turns to face the oncoming traffic. I follow her line of sight to a group of four. From their youthful appearance, I assume they are undergraduates. They salute us with beer bottles raised high in the air combined with even louder shouts. The two leading the group are shirtless and running in an uneven line. I lean to the right as the first one passes, then take a full step in the same direction as the second one flies past me. I feel the displaced air of the latter as he just misses my left shoulder.

Promptly calculating the trajectory of the third one, I instinctively take hold of the woman's arm, pulling her closer to me. Her right cheek makes contact with my right shoulder just as the young man passes by, and she lets out a small startled sigh. However, I keep my focus on the last runner, who slips suddenly on the lawn. As he shoots forward, his hands instintively reach out in front of him, refusing to let go of the beer bottles. When he lands on the path, the bottles break noisily beneath his palms. Almost immediately, he screams out a series of curses.

Behind us, the sound of running ceases. As the silence fills with laughter from afar, my attention is drawn back to the woman in my arms. I look down at her. Her shining hair brushes my jacket as she attempts to tend to the injured guest. Noticing my hand still holds her arm, I tighten my hold and draw her even closer to myself. Failing to resist, she looks at him with a troubled expression.

"Dave can't run and carry beer at the same time!" One of the young man's comrades taunts. "Hey man, you need a key to get into Morgan Hall and you're not a rez. Hurry up or you'll be left outside!"

Shoes strike pavement as the young man's unsympathetic friend runs away. In response, our remaining company quickly stands. Although both hands bleed, remarkably only his left hand contains a shard of embedded glass. As he sways, attempting to regain his balance, the shard in his skin catches the light just so, and the surrounding blood takes on a dim glow.

At this new development, my hold is challenged again. However, at that moment, our drunken company shifts his weight to his left foot. I choose to ignore her protests, and move us both to our immediate left in anticipation of his next move. As predicted, he takes off after his friend, with hands out at either side. Unfortunately, I didn't relocate us far enough, for he passes, his fingers sweep my right elbow.

"My God!" A female voice cries out. "Mariko!"

Our eyes meet the speaker—a woman in her mid twenties with short spiked hair, wearing loose jeans and a light denim jacket. She approaches quickly, using the same path I had just taken. Her fast sprint has her upon us before we have a chance to physically react. As soon as she stops, she places a hand on the shoulder of the woman I am next to. On account of the worried look on the spiked haired woman, I release my hold, sensing no direct threat.

"Are you alright?" There is noticeable concern in the new woman's voice. Yet, before her question can be answered, she continues her rapid speech. "Did that lunatic hurt you? I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have left you alone. It's not a good idea to walk the campus by yourself at night. I should have walked you back to the apartment. Don't worry, I won't—"

"I'm…fine," Mariko interjects. "I wasn't hurt. But," she pauses, her right hand gently touching my arm as she steps forward. Turning in the direction of the four students, she frowns. "That last one should probably see a doctor."

"Well, he's gone now," her friend responds, waving her hand in the air dismissingly. She then looks back at the spot where the person in question had fallen. There is broken glass on the pavement, and the smell of alcohol is clearly noticeable. "What an idiot!" she exclaims, moving for a closer inspection.

"Stop," Mariko cautions, reaching for her with her free hand. The sudden distance causes her hand to slide off my jacket. "Just leave it. I think it would be a good idea if we called campus security instead, and let them take the proper measures."

I sense a sudden vibration in my left side pocket, and reach inside for my cell phone. Observing the small digital screen, I see I have received a text message from Mimiru reading: "Change clothes. See you soon."

"Well that was fast," Mariko's friend says with surprise. "They must have been close."

Looking up, I notice movement to my right. A man in a bicycle advances toward us. His dark jacket bears the words "Campus Security" on the front in big fluorescent letters. Mariko's friend shuts her cell phone as the man peddles closer. Judging it unnecessary for three to offer an explanation, I adjust the strap on my shoulder and walk away.


End file.
